


Truly, Madly, Deeply

by amberesinite



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Slow Burn, also spoilers for at least golden deer, alternating pov, and just to clarify nothing even remotely romantic will happen before july when claude turns 18, and nothing other than having a huge crush on each other will happen until after the time skip, and the church people, hopefully, most of the golden deer will probably make an appearance, sassy byleth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2020-10-10 04:34:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20522015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberesinite/pseuds/amberesinite
Summary: It’s raining. Byleth looks around. She notices hundreds – no, thousands – of soldiers clashing on a battlefield. Barely audible over the deafening combination of hoofbeats and shouts and metal against metal is a whoosh. A bright light strikes the plains, seemingly from the heavens. A blast wave knocks her over, ears ringing and the world spinning. The smell of burning flesh accosts her nostrils, and she opens her eyes to a man with golden eyes and a glowing sword.A retelling of Golden Deer with a focus on Claude and Byleth's relationship.





	1. Great Tree Moon: An Inevitable Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written anything before, so... Ta-da! Also I use weird tenses, sorry ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It’s raining. Byleth looks around. She notices hundreds – no, thousands – of soldiers clashing on a battlefield. Barely audible over the deafening combination of hoofbeats and shouts and metal against metal is a whoosh. A bright light strikes the plains, seemingly from the heavens. A blast wave knocks her over, ears ringing and the world spinning. The smell of burning flesh accosts her nostrils, and she opens her eyes to a man with golden eyes and a glowing sword.

To the east, the first rays of dawn softly envelop a beautiful woman with fierce green eyes. The man’s sword disarticulates into a whip which unleashes another fiery blast, while the woman pulls out a slender sword and clashes with the man in one on one combat. Their movements are swift and precise, to the point that Byelth can hardly trace them. The woman is nearly struck by the bladed whip, but she manages to use her own sword to wrench it out of his hands and land a blow to the face. The man falters, and she whips out a dagger. With fear in his eyes, he looks up at her and says, “Hey. Time to wake up.”

Byleth startles. “You were mumbling something about a war… Were you having that dream again?” Oh. Her father.

She had described this dream to him before. Many times, actually. The first time she told him, Byleth could have sworn she saw fear in her father’s eyes. Since then, he’s always told her that it wasn’t important, that she shouldn’t worry about it.

“In any case, just put that out of your mind for now. The battlefield is no place for idle thoughts.”

Byleth nodded as she rubbed her eyes. She’s been so damn tired lately, and her brain feels foggy… But the work never stops coming. She can’t help but think that it would be nice to have a change of pace. As if on cue, one of her father’s men knocks frantically on the door.

“Jeralt! Sir! Sorry to bother you so early, but your presence is needed! We wouldn’t bother you if the situation were not dire…”

She can hear voices from the door, talking of bandits and gold. A statement of, “I hope you’re ready” (no doubt directed at her, and with more than just a hint of annoyance) pulls her back to the present. “Of course,” she says with a firm nod.

***

Fighting bandits is nothing new to Byleth. For her and her father, it’s their way of life – the only thing she’s known. But to see children fight for their lives – children from fancy noble families who doubtless have any real combat experience – is another thing entirely. The first (and stupidest, as far as Byleth is concerned) bandit lunges at her recklessly, leading the charge. She swiftly brings up her shield to block the attack and moves forward to counter in one graceful motion. To her left, the girl has knocked the sword out of another bandit’s hand, kicking him in the gut and making him double over. Poor bastard is beheaded before he realizes what’s happening. The blonde boy, on the other hand, is struggling to stave off two at a time. He finally pierces one in the chest, but as he’s withdrawing his lance, the second manages to catch the back of his arm. He unleashes a growl unbefitting his appearance and slashes his spear wildly, disemboweling him.

She begins searching for the third student when she hears her father’s voice call out to her yet again. Panicked, she whips around to see an arrow pierce the man’s neck, blood dribbling from the fresh wound as his body slumps over and falls onto her own. In the distance, she locates the other student, the brown-haired boy, slowly bringing down his bow. Being saved by a child – how embarrassing. She whispers a curt thanks.

“No need to thank me. It’s because of you guys that I’m not dead right now. The gods of fortune must be smiling down on me!” the boy says with a wink and a smile. What a peculiar kid.

Her father gives the directive to move into the forest, and she ushers the three children into the brush. The leader is onto them, already barking commands at his own men to search the woods. At this rate, they’ll be caught if she can’t come up with something quickly…

“I’m gonna act as a decoy to distract them.” As an afterthought she adds, “You three take out the leader from behind.” Just in case her intentions weren’t clear.

***

The mercenary doesn’t wait for them to answer before charging out of the forest to distract the grunts. Dimitri and Edelgard look like lost puppies, so Claude decides to take things into his own hands. He follows their leader’s gaze toward the woman, who’s making quite a scene. Perfect. This’ll be a piece of cake. He nocks an arrow and draws back, breathing out to steady his aim, and— 

_Snap!_

Dimitri looks at him, horrified, with one foot on a broken branch and what little color he had drained from his face. Tch. Rookie mistake.

“I’m gonna kill you where you stand!”

Claude draws his bow again and looses the arrow at close range. The bandit falters for a fraction of a second, but that’s all the time the mercenary needed to regain control of the battle. As much as he would have liked to see her take down the big baddie, the old man had already taken it upon himself to put a human barrier between them and the fighting. He turns to Edelgard, intending to make a joke about how this woman is both more beautiful AND more powerful than she is, but… On second thought… Where is she?

***

Edelgard wants to run, to scream, to do something other than stand frozen in abject terror as the leader of the bandits sprints towards her, but her legs feel heavy and her fingers feel numb, so she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath… And… she’s alive? She opens her eyes to find the mercenary in front of her, ready to parry the bandit’s attack as if she expected this all along. Relief washes through her as Claude and Dimitri rush over and she releases the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.

***

“I appreciate your help back there,” the blonde girl chimes in. “Your skill is beyond question!”

“Hey,” the boy with the brown hair cuts the girl off. “You are coming with us to the monastery, right? Of course you are! I’d love to bend your ear as we travel,” he says with a glint in his eyes. “Oh, and I should probably mention that the three of us are students of the Officers Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery. We were doing some training exercises when those bandits attacked. I definitely got the worst of it…” He feigns, looking exaggeratedly hurt.

Oh boy. She should have never wished for a change from the monotony of daily life – listening to the three of them bicker must be her punishment.

“In any case,” begins the blonde boy, “please forgive our digression. The way you held your ground against the bandits’ leader was captivating! It showed me I still have much to learn—”

“Your skill is precisely why I must ask you to consider lending your services to the Empire. I am no mere student. I am also the Adrestian Empire’s—"

“Whoa, there!” The brown-haired boy cuts them both off. Thank goodness. “You two sure are hasty, trying to recruit someone you just met. I was personally planning to develop a deep and lasting friendship on our journey back to the monastery before begging for favors.”

He’s obviously just trying to kiss her ass, but at least he hasn’t propositioned her yet… And Byleth can appreciate that.

“But it seems there’s no time for niceties in this world,” he continues. “So, capable stranger, let’s get right to it. Where does your allegiance lie? With Edelgard, the Imperial Princess of Adrestia; Dimitri, the crown prince of Faerghus; or yours truly,” he motions to himself, “Claude von Riegan, heir to the leader of the Leicester Alliance?”

“Hmm…” She pretends to think about this decision before choosing the Leicester Alliance. She doesn’t want to give the boy, Claude, too big of an ego.

“Is that right? Well, that’s a win for the Alliance, so I suppose I’m obligated to be happy,” he exclaims while smirking at the others. Edelgard rolls her eyes at him, arms folded in annoyance, while Dimitri just shakes his head, looking like a disappointed parent.

"_Claude…_" she thinks as she watches the three chatter on their way to the monastery, “_his easy smile is striking… but that smile doesn’t reach his eyes_.” She wonders what he could have possibly endured to build such a strong façade at his age. Ah well. There will be plenty of time to ponder life’s mysteries another time. For now, she is so very tired…


	2. Harpstring Moon: Familiar Scenery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Golden Deer briefly celebrate Raph's birthday before their first real battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised you an update (on tumblr) by the end of the week, and I have kept that promise! Thank you to everyone who left comments and kudos on chapter 1, and I hope you enjoy chapter 2!!!
> 
> Additional warning for mentioned underage drinking early in the chapter

She’s surprised at how quickly she’s taken to her students, if she’s being honest with herself. They’re not the rich brats she expected them to be. Claude enjoys mixing up mystery potions, Ignatz secretly wants to become a painter, Marianne loves taking care of the horses, and Lorenz… Okay, so maybe Lorenz is _exactly_ the type of rich brat she expected here. But Claude was right, she _did_ like the Golden Deer House – they were all charming in their own way.

She had even gotten into a routine. She would start by walking down the path along the commoner dorms, which tended to be quiet in the cool, early mornings and wind her way throughout the monastery until she ended up at the cathedral. Today, however, was different. The Golden Deer had not yet come down from the high of winning the mock battle (or the questionably appropriate celebration that came after), and a single comment from Hilda along the lines of, “Omigosh! Professor, did you know that today is Raphael’s birthday??” presented them all with another excuse to eat and drink to their hearts’ content.

“Hey, Teach!” Claude approached her with two glasses of deep red liquid and a tint to his cheeks to match. “The Golden Deer House may not be what you’d call an elite group just yet, but hey – credit where credit is due!”

Byleth may not know much about Fodlan or the church, but she’s pretty sure the consumption of alcoholic beverages by students is frowned upon.

“Claude.”

“Yeah, Teach?”

“Where did you get that?”

“Oh, this?” He holds up one of the glasses he’s been dual wielding, “Let’s just say a certain someone has a secret stash hidden in his office up on the second floor,” he says with his signature wink. “I’ve taken the liberty of replacing what I borrowed with one of my special poisons – the next time Seteth hands this stuff out at a ceremony, in two days’ time everyone will have terrible, um… let’s call it stomach trouble.”

Byleth tries not to smile. She _really_ does. But the thought of the Knights of Seiros all coming down with intractable diarrhea along with the glint in Claude’s eyes is too much to hold in. The corner of her mouth quirks up, and she stifles a snort.

“Not as stony-faced as usual, I see! You know, Teach, for a while I thought you simply didn’t care what was going on. For someone who’s right around the same age as me, you certainly have an unusual amount of composure.” She says nothing in response, and a quick glance at her blank expression urges Claude to continue. “I guess it’s only natural that you’d be different from young nobles who grew up in the lap of luxury,” he finishes with uncharacteristic uncertainty.

Her expression shifts to one of mild annoyance. “First of all, ouch. Second of all, you don’t seem like a noble either.”

“Ha! To tell you the truth, I didn’t exactly grow up in the lap of luxury. Maybe that’s why you and I get along so well.”

Byleth could see a hint of something in his eyes that she wasn’t entirely sure of. Like he was keeping a million secrets hidden just beneath their surface…

“Claude! _There_ you are!” came what could only be described as a low shriek from the king of luxury himself.

“Well, if it isn’t Lorenz!”

“Try not to sound so affronted. That impish look on your face suggests you are up to something – and with our dear professor no less!”

Byleth rolled her eyes so hard she thought she might pull a muscle. Claude only chuckled.

“Anyway, let’s continue this conversation another time, Teach. We should make more time for little chats like this.”

Well doesn’t he just think he’s so fucking suave. She nods, smiling in spite of herself and leaving the two boys to bicker about Crests and “noble dispositions.” As she walks back toward the din of excited chatter coming from the rest of the deer, a voice in her head giggles haughtily.

***

It had finally come. Their first mission. While the students seemed to be in good spirits, Byleth was becoming more nervous by the second. Sothis promised her the ability to turn back time should the need arise, but even the _thought_ of one of her students suffering a fatal blow turned her stomach.

“So, this is the Red Canyon, huh? Let’s get things started, Teach! There’s a back road to the west that we could use to split up and attack from both sides.”

Byleth nods and leads the deer into the canyon, looking 200% more confident than she feels. As they approach the bridge, they’re spotted by two of the bandits – lookouts probably.

“I’m itching to put my skills to the test! This is for you, Captain Jeralt!” Leonie shouts as she tackles the man on the right. Raphael joins her with an exclamation of, “It’s bandit time!” as he takes on the bandit to the left. Marianne is praying, voice shaking and tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

Shit. This isn’t right. She shouldn’t be leading children onto a battlefield.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a shout. Leonie’s target must have noticed Marianne with her eyes closed and thought her to be easy prey.

“Marianne! Look out!”

“Huh?” Marianne opens her eyes and looks up, fear overtaking her entire being. She squeezes her eyes shut once again and shrieks as a bright white light emerges from her outstretched palms. The man falls, and Marianne drops to her knees. “Please forgive me, Goddess…” she sobs shakily. Byleth rushes over to console her while Ignatz advances to assist Raphael.

Coming up from behind the rubble is an archer. He aims at Ignatz but misses the shot.

“Hey, you with the bad hair! Why don’t you pick on someone of your own caliber?” Hilda taunts, readying a massive swing. The man’s bow clatters onto the ground, and an ungodly noise escapes hm as he realizes his hand is still attached to it. “You know, I was originally planning to just sit back and watch, but that was fun!”

Hilda might just be the only person in all of Fodlan who can say something like that, covered in the blood of a man she just murdered, and look totally innocent. Hilda, at least, is one student that Byleth doesn’t need to be concerned about, despite her insistence otherwise.

Continuing her surveillance of the battlefield, Byleth notices that Leonie has engaged yet another bandit in Captain Jeralt’s name, blood oozing from a wound near her left shoulder, staining her white shirt a deep red. He throws his entire weight at her, and she shouts out in pain, dropping her lance. When she recovers, her gaze is murderous. Byleth can’t help but be impressed when she charges at the archer with a battle cry loud enough to ring above the sounds of the skirmish, pulling a sword from her side holster and repeatedly stabbing the man in the chest.

This is so fucked up… They need to end this. Quickly. “Claude! We have to defeat their leader! I’ll take some of the students down the western steps and you lead the rest down the front.”

A smile spread across his face. “Ah, a pincer attack. I like the way you think, Teach! Leonie, Raphael, Marianne – you guys come with me!”

Oh, sure. Claude leaves _her_ with Lorenz…

“The rest of you – with me! We’re sneaking around the back, so stay low and keep quiet!”

While Claude and crew create a distraction, Byleth hugs the wall along the western staircase, scoping out the best route to the man hidden among the ruins. She turns around to signal to her students to follow—

“You really thought you could trick us???”

Shit. An ambush. Why did she not consider that!? Now she was stuck, surrounded by thieves while her students fight for their lives without any guidance, and it’s all—

“Uuuuaaaahhhhhhhggg!”

A choir of blood-curdling screams rings out as a thick purple haze settles over the area. A group of shadows emerge with weapons raised, and Byleth couldn’t be happier. Lorenz – goddess bless his soul and forgive her for being so snide about him earlier – cornered the stragglers behind a wall of fire with an axe-happy Hilda while Ignatz took out a priest lurking in the brush.

Perfect. A clear shot to their boss. She can see Claude taunting the man, moving just in time to dodge his brutish swings, cutting it closer and closer every time. Her feet move on their own as she jumps up into the air and comes down hard with her sword. Its movement is halted by the bandit’s axe, blocking her attack and sending reverberations throughout her body.

The man appears shocked. “Wh—no way! You’re that mercenary from before!” Byleth isn’t quite sure why that surprises him, given that he attacked one of the Knights of Seiros and three of their students. She gives him a quizzical look, asking her silent question.

“I’ll kill you AND your pesky brats!”

Woah. Okay. _That_ crossed the line. He can make empty threats at Byleth until his tongue falls out of his fucking mouth, but threatening her students is unacceptable. She angrily slashes at his legs, causing him to crumble to the ground weeping. Staring into his eyes – her own fiery and unwavering – she sees nothing but fear. What a fucking coward. She plunges her sword into his heart and walks away as he sputters and clutches at his chest.

Looking to Claude, she sees a combination of reverence and terror. Maybe she should have reeled it back a bit…

“Your leadership was amazing, Teach!”

“Thank you, Claude,” she says with the softest smile she can muster. She doesn’t want the deer to look at her differently after witnessing ‘Ashen Demon’ Byleth.

“What do you say we get out of here and leave the rest of this to the knights?”

“I say that sounds wonderful.”

Her gaze lasted just a second too long, lingering on his perfect smile.


	3. Garland Moon: Mutiny in the Mist

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is obscenely short because it's really just setting the scene for chapter 4.
> 
> Also, moving forward this fic will express varying degrees of anti-Rhea sentiment oops.

_Thunderstrike Cassandra! You have been deceived by that witch… I will show you the truth!_

Lonato’s words kept ringing in her head. Just who _was_ Catherine before she joined the Knights of Seiros? …And what did that have to do with Rhea? Her father _had_ warned her to never trust Rhea or let her guard down. Maybe this secrecy is what drove him to leave in the first place… Her initial meeting with Rhea and the Knights of Seiros now felt eerily sinister.

_You want me to rejoin the Knights of Seiros, don’t you. I won’t say no, but…_

Her father knew something, and that ‘something’ scared him.

“Hello? Earth to Teach!”

Oh. She must have been staring blankly again. Claude grinned at her and continued.

“It really was an honor to accompany Catherine. Did you see how she fought!?”

She smiled back mischievously.

“I’m stronger.”

“Hah! I love the confidence, Teach, but you’re no match for the Heroes’ Relics.”

His lack of confidence in her was almost offensive. Almost.

“And what makes you so sure?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual fanciful nonsense of legends. ‘An ancient Relic that once cut a mountain in half with a single swing!’ …That’s what they say, anyway. But amazing as Thunderbrand is, I don’t think it fits that description.”

She wanted to ask more about the legend and Heroes’ Relics, but the troops had already begun to withdraw, and the variety of facial expressions from the rest of the deer told her that she wasn’t the only one left with a bad taste in her mouth.

“Sorry to intrude, but this incident may be more serious than anticipated,” Catherine proposed breathlessly as she ran over. In a hushed voice, she added, “I found a note that mentions a plan to assassinate Lady Rhea. We must report this right away.”

Well, shit. So much for a simple rebellion.


	4. Blue Sea Moon (Part I): The Goddess' Rite of Rebirth

“So our task this moon is to patrol and guard the monastery in support of the knights, who are busy trying to stop an assassination plot?”

Claude had called for an emergency meeting with Hilda and Byleth following their return from Castle Gaspard, and it was clear that he had put quite a bit of thought into this whole assassination plot ordeal.

“Yep. That pretty much sums it up.”

Despite Rhea’s lecture to her about punishing sinners and blasphemers, Byleth still hung on Lonato’s words. When she questioned the idea of using students as guards during the Goddess’s Rite of Rebirth, Rhea had shifted the burden to Byleth, claiming that if a student couldn’t defeat an Empire soldier that Byleth surely could. It was a cold and almost emotionless response even though a sweet smile was painted onto Rhea’s face. Each minute she spent with Rhea made her more uncomfortable.

“Here’s the thing,” Claude continued. “I don’t think the bad guys are really trying to assassinate the archbishop.”

Byleth nodded.

“I agree. It’s a distraction.”

Hilda’s face lit up with understanding.

“Ohh, that makes total sense! People don’t just carry secret notes around describing assassination plots all willy nilly. But…” her expression fell, “then what are they _really_ after?”

Claude shook his head.

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be so worried. C’mon, let’s split up and search the monastery grounds for more information.”

***

Ultimately, their search was fruitless. There were just too many possibilities, from the well-moneyed treasury to the trove of information held within the bindings of the old tomes in the library (or even, according to some people, possibly the extravagant banquet awaiting them following the ceremony’s conclusion).

Two weeks had gone by, and she could tell that Claude was becoming frustrated. Fortunately, his birthday was approaching, and Byleth would be damned if she didn’t do anything for him after receiving the beautiful golden bracelet engraved with deer for her own birthday. So she set up a little something to help him relax.

A tea party.

***

Claude was in the library pouring over a dusty tome on the history of the Church of Seiros when he heard the church bells toll. Once. Twice. Three times.

“Is it that time already?” He murmured to himself. At the table next to him, Ignatz set down his own book.

“Oh, Claude! The Professor wanted me to tell you to meet her by the gazebo at three bells.”

“Is that so? I wonder if she was able to dig up any more information on the assassination plot.”

“I-I don’t know, but it seemed important...” Ignatz trailed off. Claude was already out the door, the dusty old book left open on the desk and the sound of his heeled boots growing distant.

***

“Sorry I’m late, Teach! Did I make you wait? I ran as fast as I—”

He stopped dead in his tracks and eyed the table of sweets cautiously before turning back to Byleth, one eyebrow cocked.

“Is this… a tea party?”

“Sure is.”

The corner of her mouth quirked up slightly, and he stared at her for just a moment before he broke out in pure unadulterated laughter. 

“And here I thought you had something important to tell me!”

Her mouth dropped slightly, and she crossed her arms as she huffed out a “rude.”

“I’m only teasing, Teach,” he said as he pulled over a nearby empty chair and casually kicked up his feet, taking a sip of tea. “Ah… The taste of relaxation! So. To what occasion do I owe this great honor?”

He threw in a wink for good measure.

“You’re a reliable ally, Claude,” she continued seriously, “and I admire how ambitious you are. It’s only been three moons, but Garreg Mach is the first place that has ever felt like ‘home’ to me. Before meeting the three of you outside of Remire, I hardly had any contact with anyone my own age. I just… did my job.”

She was looking downward, staring so intently into her tea that she may as well have been staring right through it. Claude opened his mouth to respond but found himself at a loss for words. This is _not_ the conversation he imagined them having.

“…But then I met you. And Dimitri, and Edelgard, and everyone else at the monastery who treat me like more than just the sword I’m hired for – who treat me like a human being.”

Her eyes were fierce when they met his – an endless, piercing blue that made his chest feel tight and his entire being feel more vulnerable. 

“Remember when you said people like us should stick together? I wasn’t sure what to make of that at first. It seemed like you were just vying for the position of ‘Teacher’s Pet.’ But you’ve proven yourself in every battle since then, and the Deer place their trust in you wholeheartedly. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I’m counting on you.”

She smiled softly as she procured a slender box from under the table and handed it to him.

“Happy Birthday, Claude.”

He opened the box and carefully removed the colorful paper wrapped loosely around the object inside. A silver bow.

“Teach, I—”

“Look at the belly.”

Engraved on the inside of the upper and lower limbs was the phrase ‘Fear the Deer.’ He sat in stunned silence for what felt like an eternity. When he looked up, she was smiling so sweetly at him that it took a moment to regain his composure. His face felt hot. How was _he_ the one who ended up being charmed??

“You really are a mystery, Teach,” he chuckled. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who left comments, kudos, and bookmarks!!! <3 I'm on an easier rotation now, so hopefully you won't have to wait an entire month between chapters.


	5. Blue Sea Moon (Part II): Assault at the Rite of Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He shoved another mage toward Byleth and darted to his right, but the large and unwieldly weapon slowed his movements. Byleth knocked the sword out of his grasp, sending it spiraling through the air. The remaining forces scattered, covering their heads with their hands, as if that would protect them from the airborne blade. It came down directly and resolutely into Byleth’s outstretched palm. Horrified, the mage quickly raised his hands and hurled a ball of flames at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seteth: “As a professor, you would do well to remember that it is your duty to guide your students down the path of righteousness.”
> 
> Byleth: “But I’d rather lead them down the path that ROCKS!”

Byleth had just cut down the 5th mage wearing a plague mask when more approached from the rear. Claude’s suspicion about the Holy Mausoleum was, of course, correct – which was great for Seiros’ bones, but not so great for the Golden Deer. It was only a matter of time before their leader figured out how to break the spell sealing the casket. She had to do something.

“Hey, Teach. Looks like you’ve got a not-so-secret admirer.”

Claude jerked his head in the direction of the Death Knight, whose hollow gaze was fixed firmly on Byleth.

“Tell me about it… I wish I could cut that helmet clean off his neck.”

“Woah, easy there, Teach! I’d stay away from the evil-looking knight if I were you.”

She risked one last glance at the Death Knight before giving Claude a curt nod. If he was going to continue to be a silent observer, it would be reckless to endanger the students by engaging him. She instead turned her sights to the mage tinkering with Seiros’ tomb, who briefly looked up at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“You’re too late, the seal is broken!”

The mage excitedly lifted the lid from the tomb. Byleth eyed him cautiously as he slowly lifted something from inside.

A sword.

She readied her own sword and assumed a defensive stance. Who knew what kind of power this suspicious tomb sword held? She could see his eyes darting around, barely visible under the heavy cloak and mask.

_Shit, he’s gonna try to make an escape._

He shoved another mage toward Byleth and darted to his right, but the large and unwieldly weapon slowed his movements. Byleth knocked the sword out of his grasp, sending it spiraling through the air. The remaining forces scattered, covering their heads with their hands, as if that would protect them from the airborne blade. It came down directly and resolutely into Byleth’s outstretched palm. Horrified, the mage quickly raised his hands and hurled a ball of flames at her.

Time suddenly felt like it was moving in slow motion while she awaited her fiery end. Her palm burned. Before she realized it, the flames were extinguished, and her arm was outstretched. The sword glowed like hot coals.

***

Claude watches in amazement as the sword from the tomb locks into Byleth’s grasp. She tosses her iron sword to the side and approaches the mage – slowly at first, the glowing blade pointed at his neck. The mage raises his hands defensively, cautiously backing up until he hits the wall. Even from across the room, Claude can see the fear in his eyes, evidenced by the cries for mercy that follow. Byleth seems to take this as an offense and charges. The sound of the sword against the mage’s shield of light sends a jolt of electricity through every nerve in his body, intensifying with each second as the shield begins to break. The sensation that results from the destruction of the magic shield is unpleasant and deafening, like sustaining continuous electric shocks while a swarm of bees buzzes in his ears.

His hands finally drop from his head and he slowly opens his eyes. Standing in front of the tomb of Seiros is Byleth, still grasping the glowing, bloodied sword. The light coming from the torches on the wall silhouette her figure, giving her a heavenly glow. If he were a particularly religious man, he might think this was a sign from the goddess.

Just the thought of it made him chuckle out loud. What kind of goddess would choose this dreary place, backdrop of corpses included, to send a message?

His sacrilegious musings are interrupted by the clamor of the Knights of Seiros finally arriving at the scene. He scanned the mausoleum. No sign of the Death Knight.

_Tch. He ended up getting away after all…_

***

Byleth could hear muffled shouting coming from behind the door of the Audience Chamber but not much more. The Deer were huddled together out in the hall, awaiting Claude’s retelling of the events taking place inside.

Raphael was the first to break the silence.

“So those guys they caught… They were all… I mean, they all got the axe, right? Doesn’t that seem brutal?”

“But… those who cannot be saved must be delivered to the goddess for judgement, is that not so?”

“Say what you’d like Marianne, but Lady Rhea can be more than a little intimidating – she’s downright terrifying!” Lysithea retorted.

The ornate doors swung open, and Byleth could feel her stomach sink at the sight of Seteth, as he briskly made his way over to the Deer.

“Professor. It seems Lady Rhea would like a word with you. Come with me.”

***

“I cannot thank you enough for defeating those invaders in the Holy Mausoleum, and especially for protecting the Sword of the Creator.”

Rhea smiles at her gently, a betrayal of the cold, harsh words she had for the “poor, lost souls” of the Western Church just a few minutes prior.

“For now, I will entrust the sword to you. Please, use it wisely.”

Seteth’s expression changes from smug to insulted almost immediately.

“Lady Rhea, wait! Do you truly mean to give the Sword of the Creator to this stranger!?”

Sure, she’s one of the newer additions at the monastery, and anybody would be correct to distrust someone with the nickname of ‘Ashen Demon,’ but to call her a stranger? Did Seteth really have that little faith in her?

“I beg you to reconsider. Given a little more time, we could more accurately assess her abilities—”

Something flashed in Rhea’s eyes.

“No. I have _made up my mind_, Seteth. I have _faith_.”

His mouth pressed into a line as his eyes tried to discover a motive, but Rhea remained indecipherable.

“Very well,” he sighed at last, turning back to Byleth. “Do _not_ betray the trust the archbishop has bestowed upon you.”

***

Claude was watching from the shadows. After all, who would he be if he passed up an opportunity to learn more about the church’s mysteries, and – to his delight – the Sword of the Creator?

It was almost humorous how the universe saw fit to procure the Sword of the Creator right in front of his eyes, only for it to end up in the hands of his enigmatic Teach. The sword had no Crest Stone as far as he could tell, yet she was able to unleash its hidden power anyway. Would he even be able to use it?

_Damn. I guess there’s no telling..._

He supposes he’ll just have to continue his research and try a little harder to get some damn information out of his stoic Teach.


	6. Verdant Rain Moon: Tower of Black Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hey, Teach. I gotta say, I never would’ve guessed you were a descendant of the King of Liberation,” he throws out nonchalantly.
> 
> She doesn’t seem caught off guard by his intrusion. In fact, it almost seems as if she anticipated it. Maybe he’s become predictable, or maybe his footsteps are heavy and dragging from lack of sleep. Either way, she simply gives him a quizzical look.
> 
> “What?”
> 
> Okay. So _this_ is how this conversation is gonna go.
> 
> “No need to act coy. Remember that story I told you about a Relic that could cut a mountain in half? That was the Sword of the Creator – the very same used by Nemesis, the King of Liberation!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have good news and bad news:
> 
> The good news is that this chapter is longer!
> 
> The bad news is that I switch scenes and POV like ten million times, so apologies in advance

Claude keeps replaying that scene over and over in his mind – the Sword of the Creator falls into Teach’s hands and immediately begins to glow. Nemesis bore the Crest of Flames, so it stands to reason that Teach _also_ bears the Crest of Flames if she’s able to wield his sword. He shifts his weight to rest his face in his palm. He can’t very well just walk up to her and say, ‘Hey, I heard you’re the descendent of the evil King Nemesis!’ As a self-proclaimed master tactician, he can come up with something better.

“—ster von Riegan.”

Hilda elbows him in the ribs. Hard.

“Ow! What was that for?” He hisses.

“You were spacing out and staring at the Professor…”

He looks up. Sure enough, Teach is looking straight at him, a combination of confusion and mild concern written across her face.

“Is everything alright, Mister von Riegan?”

His face feels hot thinking about the spectacle he must have made.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just got a little dizzy… Sorry, Teach.”

To his relief, she nods and continues the lecture. Across the room, Lysithea rolls her eyes, and somebody scoffs behind him.

***

Lorenz does not trust Claude.

It is not simply a matter of his boorish attitude either – House Riegan was on the brink of collapse and without an heir for years! Then suddenly this… peasant shows up at the Officer’s Academy, vying for his position as leader of the Alliance!

He looks around the room and finds Claude sitting in the first row of desks on the left, next to Hilda of House Goneril.

Hmph. He mustn’t allow any harm to befall such an exquisite beauty, especially when that harm comes in the form of a “noble” with an obscene lack of propriety. Even now, he sits there ogling our dear professor! How indecent! She may not be of noble blood, but she carries herself with an air of elegance that few can match… despite her rough exterior.

“Is everything alright, Mister von Riegan?” she asks in that tragically angelic voice of hers.

How dare he distract the professor from her inspiring lecture! She should not have even wasted her breath on the likes of him. No doubt Claude will have some cheeky remark.

Lorenz scoffs and returns to his notes. His education would have been better had Claude never shown his face at Garreg Mach.

***

Claude groans and rubs his temples. He was in the library all night researching the Crest of Flames, with little to show for it. He trudges down the long hallway that leads toward the Audience Chamber, electing to ignore Rhea and Seteth as he makes his way to the steps. His desire to unravel the mysteries surrounding Teach supersedes anything that the Church of Seiros has to offer him right now.

He finds her sitting on a bench outside of the Training Grounds, a book on the world outside of Fodlan propped precariously in one hand. A warm breeze frees some stray hairs from behind her ear, which she tucks back instinctively. As he approaches, he can see that she’s reading the chapter on Almyra. Had he not come here on a mission, his hometown would have been a great conversation starter.

“Hey, Teach. I gotta say, I never would’ve guessed you were a descendant of the King of Liberation,” he throws out nonchalantly.

She doesn’t seem caught off guard by his intrusion. In fact, it almost seems as if she anticipated it. Maybe he’s become predictable, or maybe his footsteps are heavy and dragging from lack of sleep. Either way, she simply gives him a quizzical look.

“What?”

Okay. So _this_ is how this conversation is gonna go.

“No need to act coy. Remember that story I told you about a Relic that could cut a mountain in half? That was the Sword of the Creator – the very same used by Nemesis, the King of Liberation!”

She maintains a blank stare.

“If you can use it too, that can only mean you have that bloodline’s Crest,” he continues.

Her forehead creases slightly as she considers the implications.

“I don’t understand,” she finally utters. “Hanneman has already investigated my Crest with his… machine, and he didn’t recognize it. Also, I thought Nemesis didn’t have any descendants…”

Well. So much for the asking outright approach.

“Listen, Teach. ‘I don’t understand’ isn’t gonna cut it here at the monastery. You can try to protect your secrets for as long as you can, but so long as you do, you’ll never know mine either.”

***

Claude left with a wink, but it seemed even less genuine than usual. Byleth truly didn’t understand how she could wield the Sword of the Creator – hell, she didn’t even know her own age.

With a sigh, she closes her book.

She had thought that she and Claude had an understanding – that they were friends – but now it feels like she’s under his scrutiny once more. It’s like the trust she worked so hard to give him (both hers _and_ his) was shattered by the very sword that Rhea told her was blessed by the goddess.

The thought alone leaves a bitter taste in her mouth. She sighs again and frowns at the weapon attached to her hip. Maybe talking to Jeralt would help.

She strolls about the monastery until she finally spots him standing in front of a grave with a bundle of fresh flowers placed at his feet. She speaks hesitantly.

“Hey, dad.”

Jeralt turns to look at her. There’s moisture adorning the corners of his eyes, but his smile grows wide upon her arrival.

“Hey, kiddo.” His voice cracks. “…I wanted to ask you to join me, but… well, you’re here now.”

Byleth hums in response. They stand in silence, staring at the letters on the headstone that are so worn with time, that only the epitaph is still legible – Resting in the warm embrace of cherished memories.

“Dad, whose…”

She doesn’t have to finish for Jeralt to know what she was going to ask.

“Your mother. She died right after you were born, so she wasn’t able to spend much time with you.”

The tears begin to well up in his eyes again, his normally strong and commanding voice uncharacteristically fragile as he continues.

“But she loved you with all her heart – of that I’m certain. She had the most beautiful smile, and I’ve never seen her smile more than when she was pregnant with you.”

He drapes his arm over her shoulders and gives a light squeeze. Byleth wraps her arm around his back in response. When he finally lets go, he rummages around in his pocket and procures an ornate silver ring. Its intricate engravings are stunning, but not nearly as stunning as the eight cardinally placed amethysts surrounding its central gem.

“This ring is the only keepsake I have of her. One day, I hope you’ll give this ring to someone you love as well as I love her.”

His eyes shine with a pride Byleth has never seen before. After the conversation with Claude this morning, she feels like she’s hardly able to maintain a normal friendship, let alone a romantic relationship, but she nods solemnly as he tucks the ring away. Her friendship with Claude is suddenly the only thing on her mind again.

***

Weeks pass without incidence, but Byleth finds herself becoming more anxious about her interactions with Claude. It started with leaving the classroom immediately upon finishing lectures and has since progressed to holing herself up in her room during free time. She even turned down his offer to tea the other day. ‘Which you still feel guilty about,’ the arrogant voice in her head reminds her.

‘Come now – if you truly feel regret over turning down his invitation, perhaps it is time you reconcile? ’

“Not yet,” Byleth retorts. “Not while I still have so much to plan for this month’s mission.”

It’s an excuse, and if the ‘Hmph.’ that follows is any indication, Sothis knows it.

***

“Whew!” Claude whistles at the sight of the tower looming before him. “Those thieves certainly found themselves a great place to nest. I suppose as a former noble, it makes sense that Miklan would know about his place.”

“What a complete disgrace to the nobility!” Lorenz sneers. “I hear he’s stolen the ancient Relic of House Gautier and turned it on his own flesh and blood.”

“Is that right?” Claude asked.

His response was laden with just a little too much mockery, but Lorenz didn’t seem to notice. She supposed his flair for the dramatic clouded his ability to detect any sarcasm directed at his aristocracy.

“Interesting. As far as I knew, those without a Crest weren’t able to wield Relics.”

Claude looks at her pointedly and with a mischievous smile.

“…And then we have the mythical Sword of the Creator, which can’t be used by anyone except Teach, because she’s just that special.”

His eyes flicker playfully, and the guilt washes over Byleth once more. Damn him and his charming smile... She’ll never admit it, but Sothis was right – avoiding the subject is just making her feel worse. She’ll have to make it up to Claude after they take care of this whole Relic debacle. For now, she rolls her eyes.

“Come on, Claude, the rain is picking up. Let’s get this over with.”

Her gaze meets his briefly, and it gives her a weird feeling in her chest. She attributes to pre-battle nerves.

***

The battle went – for the most part – without a hitch. Despite the thieves trying to surround their modest army with an ambush, they were still no match for Byleth’s expertly trained students and the Knights of Seiros.

As they drag their feet up the last staircase, Claude breathes out a sigh.

“You know, from one tactician to another, I gotta hand it to him – making your enemies climb all those stairs before engaging in battle is a clever tactic.”

“At least we’re not outside fighting in the heavy rain,” she muses.

She chances another look in his direction and can’t help but notice how his eyes sparkle when he chuckles.

At the top of the tower, an armored figure looms over them, Lance of Ruin in hand. The figure speaks. His words are slow at first, but they become increasingly hysterical until he’s screaming. As if responding to his temperament, the appendages of the Relic begin to writhe as it exudes a thick, black material from its glowing core. Byleth watches in horror as the sentient material completely overtakes the lance and begins to engulf Miklan. The Crest stone glows an intense red as a horrible, strangled scream escapes him.

Then, for a moment, the tower is silent. When the dust settles, a reptilian creature with glowing eyes is left in Miklan’s wake. Its scales resemble armor, and it has blade-like projections along its back. The beast turns to look at Byleth and screeches, displaying its razor-sharp teeth.

Byleth swears under her breath.


	7. Horsebow Moon: Rumors of a Reaper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Byleth and the Deer return to Garreg Mach chilled, bloody, and in poor spirits. She’s just about at her fucking end with Rhea’s requests recently. If she’s asked to torment her students with one more traumatizing mission, she’s going to lose her fucking mind.

Byleth and the Deer return to Garreg Mach chilled, bloody, and in poor spirits. She’s just about at her fucking end with Rhea’s requests recently. If she’s asked to torment her students with one more traumatizing mission, she’s going to lose her fucking mind.

“Professor, you have returned,” comes the sickeningly sweet voice from the Audience Chamber. “The goddess is indeed generous with her divine protection.”

Byleth fights the urge to roll her eyes. Their only true protection in that tower were their weapons and quick thinking.

“See to it that you keep what transpired at the tower to yourself. People would lose faith in the nobility should rumors spread of transforming into a monster.”

She can feel Rhea’s stare boring holes into her soul as her jaw goes slack.

“But—"

“_And_ please ensure the students who accompanied you understand that as well. Have I made myself clear?”

Never before has Byleth been rendered so speechless. There were many times in which she did not _wish_ to respond, but this is undoubtedly the first time in her life that she had so much to say, yet could say nothing.

“You knew…” she utters.

“Well, of course. His transformation was nothing short of divine punishment for someone arrogant enough to use a Hero’s Relic despite their unworthiness. Now, if you would… the church will formally return the lance to House Gautier.”

Rhea closes her eyes as if in mourning and holds out her hand expectantly. Byleth stares at her hand, a million and one thoughts racing through her head. If she gives in to Rhea now, it’s no better than condoning her actions. She finally looks back up at Rhea.

“No.”

Rhea’s eyes snap open and her sad smile contorts into a grimace. She gingerly curls her fingers and retracts her hand.

“What… did you say?”

Byleth straightens her back and raises her voice.

“I said no. I will not.”

“What is the meaning of this!?” Rhea growls through gritted teeth, fist clenched so tightly that her nails are leaving little crescents of blanched skin in their wake.

Knowing that choosing the wrong words could end in her dismissal from the monastery, Byleth continues cautiously.

“I have taken the liberty of speaking with Sylvain Gautier, the next head of House Gautier and the rightful owner of the Lance of Ruin. I’m certain he is overjoyed that the church has helped him recover his family’s treasured Relic, but with all due respect, it should be up to him what happens to the lance, and he has expressed great interest in safeguarding the lance himself.”

She’s burning up inside, half out of anger and half out of fear. Sweat beads on her chest and forehead, and she hopes that Rhea doesn’t take notice to her unease as she scrutinizes every crease and pore on Byleth’s face.

“Very well,” she declares after an impossibly long pause. “You are dismissed. I will summon you when I have the details for your next mission.”

Byleth politely excuses herself and exits the Audience Chamber more deliberately and confidently than she feels. As soon as the towering doors are closed behind her, she rushes to Claude’s room.

***

“Ah. So _that’s_ why the church had to eliminate the thieves – they’re covering up the truth. Come to think of it, I’ve yet to find anything on relics in the library either.”

Claude is sitting at his desk, surrounded by books that he’s stolen from the library’s collection. There are piles on his desk, shelves, floor… even next to Teach, on his bed. She stares at them as if to make it a point to bring his attention to it.

“I’m not sure whether to be impressed or concerned,” she finally says.

“You wound me!” he declares playfully as he brings a hand to his chest. “I suppose I do spend more time as the library than most students. But I won’t stop. I can’t afford to.”

The tone in his voice changes, and he knows she can tell. As good as he is at maintaining his façade, her gaze seems to pierce right through it. He wants to change the subject, but it’s too late. He can see the question in her eyes, and—

“What are you after, Claude?”

He’s quiet at first, the only sound coming from the brisk tapping of his pen against the desk. When he turns around, he gives her a calculated smile.

“Teach… you don’t really expect me to tell you something so personal just like that, do you?”

He maintains eye contact with her as he gets up from his desk and crosses the room, determined to hold her gaze even as he casually plops himself next to her on his bed.

“Though,” he leans in close and gently tugs at her hair, “I wouldn’t mind sharing if you were to tell me some of your secrets in exchange…”

She swats his hand away lightheartedly but almost immediately looks downward, fidgeting with the hem of her shorts.

“You know I don’t have the answers you’re looking for,” she whispers.

Her response almost makes him feel bad about asking, but he had to try. Instead of pushing the issue further, Claude falls backwards with his hand to his forehead in another display of theatrics. 

“Alas… to have a woman as lovely as a flower burst into my bedroom, only to be pricked by her thorns.”

She snorts and looks down at him, the smallest tinge of pink adorning her cheeks. Cute.

He sits up and continues, “My dream, in truth, is a selfless dream, but I need power to make it a reality. I came to this monastery because I thought I might find someone useful – someone to help me on my path.”

She’s looking at him in earnest now, waiting on his every word. This is it.

“So, what do you say? Will you help me achieve this dream?”

***

In the commotion following the discovery of Flayn and Monica, Byleth and Claude hadn’t had time to make up their missed tea date. Instead, they sat across from each other in the dining hall, surrounded by the excited gossip of Claude’s classmates. The Battle of the Eagle and Lion was coming up, and the entire monastery was in good spirits.

_“Why would we go all the way to Gronder Field? It’s idiocy to travel that far!”_

_“Gronder Field is in the Empire, right? I wonder how we’ll get there…”_

_“Gronder is in the territory of House Bergliez – that’s right next to my home in the region of House Varley!”_

Claude turns his attention away from the chattering in the background to look at Byleth. She’s bragging to Dorothea about how far the Deer have come, and her eyes are shining with a brilliance that makes his pulse thrum in his ears. He leans across the table, resting his chin in his hand.

“You know, Teach, seeing you smile sure makes me feel better.”

She breaks her gaze with Dorothea and looks at him quizzically. He swears he can hear Dorothea giggling in the background, but it sounds dissonant, muffled. The entire dining hall blurs around him, and all Claude sees is Teach’s beautiful smile.

“Do you really not know?” he replies in a hushed voice. He reaches across the table to brush a stray hair from her face. “The truth is, I’ve never seen you smile like this before.”

She leans in and—

“Hello?? Calling space cadet, Claude!” Hilda yells as she waves her hand in front of his face, “You’re staring again...”

“Hm?”

Claude blinks out of his daydream to find three sets of eyes boring into him – Hilda, Teach, and Dorothea.

_Damn it. Pull yourself together, Claude!_

“_Anyway_, as I was saying… Dorothea spoke with Professor Manuela last night, and rumor has it she won’t be joining the Battle of the Eagle and Lion!”

Dorothea shakes her head sadly. “I’m afraid she’ll have to forego the battle this year. Her injuries are too grave to participate.”

Byleth seems to ponder this for a moment. “Then I should sit out too. It would give us an unfair advantage,” she declares matter-of-factly. 

Claude finds his voice again as Manuela approaches the table, her face flushed and wine in hand, as if summoned by their gossip.

“Well, speak of the devil! Care to confirm or refute these rumors swirling around about you not participating in the Battle of the Eagle and Lion?”

She sighs dramatically. “I must regrettably confirm. I’d only be a burden out there…” She downs the rest of her wine. “My students don’t need to see me collapsed.”

Claude leans into Hilda and murmurs, “Well they’re about to if she keeps that up…” The remark earns him a glare from Dorothea, but Hilda snickers.

_Nailed it._

“And besides,” she continues with a wink, “You know you wanna see the kids in action, professor.”

The question is directed at Teach, but her eyes briefly flick to Claude and back before departing with a ‘good luck.’


	8. Wyvern Moon: Battle of the Eagle and Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“So, this is Gronder Field, huh? Not a bad place to wage war, is it, Teach?” A gentle elbow to the ribs breaks her from her musings. She arches an eyebrow at him._
> 
> _“Personally, I have my eye on that hill over there,” Claude continues, “It’s the ideal spot to lure our enemies to and then surrounded them with fire!”_
> 
> _Byleth says nothing, but her expression shouts_ CLAUDE, NO _while his shouts back _CLAUDE, YES!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to help with orientation, I’m using the map (with GD at the top) as a reflection of cardinal directions. So if Dimitri is to the southeast according to the map, the GD have to move forward and to the left to engage him. Also I gave Sylvain a female horse because it felt appropriate. That is all. Enjoy!

The students are as quiet as she’s ever seen them, the only sounds on Gronder Field coming from the rippling stream and the caw of an eagle overhead. To their south, Edelgard has bolstered her defenses within the ruins of an old fort across the river, and to the east, Dimitri and the Blue Lions hide amongst the dense forest. Truthfully, the Deer aren’t positioned in the most strategic location – aside from the stream and a small grouping of trees with a modest underbrush, they’ll have to go on the offensive from the second this battle begins if they want to claim the lead. Byleth looks up to the ridge overhead and sees Rhea smiling down on her, reminiscent of her arrival at Garreg Mach. It gives her an eerie feeling, and she wishes now more than ever that Jeralt could be here with her. When Byleth had asked, he gave some cryptic response and told her to search his room for clues if he didn’t come back. It made her want to vomit. It felt like a bad omen.

“So, this is Gronder Field, huh? Not a bad place to wage war, is it, Teach?” A gentle elbow to the ribs breaks her from her musings. She arches an eyebrow at him.

“Personally, I have my eye on that hill over there,” Claude continues, “It’s the ideal spot to lure our enemies to and then surrounded them with fire!”

Byleth says nothing, but her expression shouts _CLAUDE, NO_ while his shouts back _CLAUDE, YES!_

Eventually, he sighs.

“I know, I know,” he concedes, “You want all the students to make it back to the monastery in one piece…” he jokes somewhat mockingly. “Fine. No fire. But the Imperial princess and the crown prince are going down.”

“Ooh~ Professor, Claude, what are _you two_ talking about?” Hilda interrupts, giggling.

A flash of purple storms in after her.

“Hilda! Your implications are improper, and quite frankly, uncalled for! Knowing Claude, I am certain he was simply foisting more of his ill-advised schemes on our poor professor. Even _he_ would never debase himself by making romantic advances toward a superior,” he sneers as motions toward Claude.

In response, Claude only gives Lorenz a shit-eating grin before putting his arm around Byleth’s shoulders and leading her away, leaving a cackling Hilda and beet red, sputtering Lorenz behind.

“Claude, you shouldn’t tease Lorenz like that,” Byleth chides once they’re out of earshot.

“Ah, but that smile and beautiful pink tinge to your cheeks makes me think otherwise,” he beams.

Byleth playfully shoves him toward the river as the Deer get into formation.

***

The blaring of horns incites a whirlwind of movement on the battlefield. Byleth watches Bernie rush to the ballista at the center of the field, largely unnoticed in the commotion of Felix clashing with Caspar, the two boys backed up by Sylvain and Ingrid to the east and Ferdinand and Dorothea to the west.

_Welp. So much for Claude’s fire idea._

An enormous bolt lodges itself in the dirt next to Lorenz’ gelding with a _thunk_, the rearing horse nearly throwing him off.

“C’mon, Teach. We’ve gotta be quick if we want to stop the ballista and secure the center,” Claude motions toward Bernadetta with his head. Byleth nods and orders Lorenz to take cover in the brush. 

“Professor! Certainly you don’t mean for someone as skilled as myself to merely hide among the trees with these _commoners_!” he asserts, pointing to Leonie and Ignatz.

Byleth rolls her eyes and opens her mouth to argue when another bolt whizzes past their heads, threatening to decapitate them. Lorenz pales.

“You were saying…?”

“I—I was just saying how right you are, dear professor! It _is_ my duty to protect the commonfolk after all!”

***

Every muscle in his body trembles with adrenaline as Lorenz watches from the thicket. He’s quite certain that Bernadetta merely intended to scare him with those imprecise shots – _or perhaps_ very _precise if purging him from the battlefield was indeed her objective_ – yet his heart refuses to still, especially in the face of the carnage around him.

Thankfully, Bernadetta has redirected her aim to Ingrid, who is hovering far too close to the battleground for her own wellbeing. Ah well, they can’t all be as fortunate as to have Captain Jeralt Eisner’s own flesh and blood leading their house. He glances toward the rest of the Lions where Hilda is brutishly cracking open the skulls of their cavalry like eggshells – an image that he would quite like to forget in its entirety before he loses his lunch.

The pounding in his chest grows fiercer yet as Claude and the professor engage Edelgard’s cavalry. Despite having the utmost faith in the professor’s – and to his chagrin, Claude’s – skills, imagining either becoming gravely injured fills him with a sort of dread that makes his heart feel hollow. The professor incapacitates yet another soldier as she gives the hand signal for their archers to move out. Behind her, Dimitri’s personal retainer advances toward the central hill.

Sothis be damned if the professor thinks he would be pleased to sit idly by and watch her beautiful face be marred from afar!

He takes once last glance toward Hilda – charging poor Ashe with Raphael and Lysithea at her side and uttering a war cry the likes of which should never be uttered by a lady – and decides that his strength would be better served elsewhere.

***

“Ugggh! How long do we have to stay in this stupid forest!? I want to get out there and show off what I’ve learned from Captain Jeralt!”

Ignatz considers telling her to be patient, but part of him fears that Leonie’s arrows will end up in _him_ instead. She growls impatiently.

“This is pegasus shit! Come on, Ignatz, we’re moving out.”

“H—hold on! The professor told us to wait for—"

Leonie deftly moves about the trees and emerges just across the river from where Petra stands guard. She successfully takes down two pegasus knights before Ignatz hesitantly follows suit. His breathing and his hands are equally shaky, which he childishly hopes will cancel each other out as he nocks his first arrow. He attempts to steady his breaths before releasing, muttering a prayer to the goddess, and… _Success!_ The girl shouts as she loses control of her pegasus, and he quickly nocks a second arrow.

_Relax, Ignatz. This is what you’ve been training for. Breathe in, hold, release…_

The arrow flies past the girl’s shoulder.

She immediately looks down to them, altering her course to avoid their shots. _Ohh… You’ve done it now, Ignatz…_

Leonie makes chase, but the pegasus is too fast and the rider too nimble, and she’s already headed toward the professor. Ignatz tries to shout across the river, but his warning is swallowed by the din of the battle. He watches in horror and then amazement as the pegasus knight dives down, lance at the ready, only for her mount to be expertly and effortlessly shot out of the sky by Claude.

If only he could be as talented with the bow as he was with a paintbrush…

***

Byleth sees the pegasus knight spiraling down out of the sky from the corner of her eye, but what she _doesn’t_ see is Ferdinand von Aegir – not until after his lance pierces her thigh. She yelps at the sharp pain and falls to her knees, applying pressure to ebb the steady flow of blood. Her battalion needs no orders to surround and incapacitate him in her stead, and Marianne – goddess bless her soul – has already cast physic, the wound on Byleth’s leg clotting, granulating, and scarring before her eyes. Claude unsheathes a dagger to ward off the remnants of Ferdinand’s own battalion before spinning around to help Byleth up off the ground and press forward.

Even just arriving at the central hill is proving more difficult than either she or Claude had anticipated. Bernadetta is closely guarded by Hubert, Dorothea, and Caspar, who are unsurprisingly dedicated to protecting their fellow Eagle. Byleth watches Ingrid fall from her pegasus surrounded by the purple smoke of mire, while Dorothea casts a thunder spell at Sylvain. Hubert is wide open after sending his own battalion toward Ingrid, and Byleth glances around the field, hoping that she can get a shot in before anyone notices. She briefly makes eye contact with Sylvain, who winks at her and urges his filly into a gallop, knocking Caspar out of his way and lodging the Lance of Ruin firmly within Hubert’s breastplate.

With two of her three guards down and the speed advantage of riding on horseback, Lorenz reaches Bernadetta before she and Claude do. Bernadetta launches a bolt point blank into Lorenz’ horse, causing him to crash into the wooden boards at the base of the ballista. As she loads another bolt, Lorenz casts ragnarok, accidentally engulfing the central hill in flames. Byleth shoots a glance toward Claude, who looks unfathomably delighted with the unexpected turn of events. She tries to hide the twitch of her lips at the corners of her mouth.

“Ms. Varley, you nearly got blood all over my brand new war robes! How would you feel had you ruined this masterful stitching!?” Lorenz gestures to the intricate detailing of his sleeve.

“Aaaaaaah! P—please don’t hurt me! Bernie gives up, Bernie gives up!” she squeals as she raises her hands defensively.

“Well good riddance then. Off with you!” he shoos. “Professor, I’ve taken the liberty of—oof!”

Byleth whirls around to see Felix knock Lorenz out with a blow to the head from the hilt of his sword.

***

As Lorenz’ vision fades from spinning to blurry to dark, the last image he can conjure is of Claude and the professor standing over him to ask of his wellbeing. Two fierce and beautiful comrades putting their own safety at risk for his sake…? Why, it is simply too much for his noble heart to handle!

***

“Argh, don’t waste my time!” Lysithea shouts as she blasts Annette with another Luna spell and elegantly doges her counterattack.

“I’m not gonna lose!” Annette retorts as she attempts to overwhelm Lysithea with a wind barrage.

With every step forward, Annette’s casting becomes increasingly frantic, and with every step backward, Lysithea cleverly leads her to uneven grounds with overgrown tree roots. Annette takes one final step toward Lysithea, readying another taunt, when her boot gets caught in the root of a fallen tree and she stumbles to the ground, her tome bouncing just out of reach.

“Finally! I thought you’d never give up… Raphael, could you please do something about this… _mess?_” she waves.

“Sure thing, Little Lys!” He booms. “Sorry Annette, it’s nothing personal.”

Annette yelps as Raphael easily picks up her small frame and throws her over his shoulder. Lysithea watches in amusement as he carries her, kicking and shouting, to the sidelines and places her with the rest of the students who are “out,” giving Lysithea a huge grin and a thumbs up. She briefly returns the gesture before hurrying over to join Hilda against Dimitri.

To be perfectly honest, Hilda’s attempts to lure Dimitri out of the forest have been… less than fruitful, to put it nicely. Lysithea dips into the underbrush to smoke the prince out herself. As she begins to chant the words to her spell, she hears a grunt and looks up to find Dimitri readying his throwing spear. 

_Damn it, Lysithea! How could you have been so dense as to not see that coming!?_ She scolds herself indignantly as she squeezes her eyes tight, hoping that his attack won’t do too much damage. She braces herself for the impact when she hears another, wilder, growl. Hesitantly peeking open one eye, she sees Hilda screaming at Dimitri, swinging her axe violently. He attempts to pull out a sword to deflect her blows, but the heavy axe combined with her powerful swings – _who knew Hilda had this kind of strength?_ – makes each parry harder and harder for him to execute.

Her attacks are unrelenting, and Dimitri loses his grip on the sword. Hilda throws all her weight into her opponent, knocking him over. Lysithea runs in to provide backup, but as Dimitri props himself up, Hilda places a boot on his chest, pushing him back down into the dirt and leaning over him intimidatingly. She grins, hand on her hip, and shouts, “Fear the Deer, bitch!” as she excitedly high fives Lysithea.

“Urgh… I suppose my training wasn’t enough…” he concedes. “The Blue Lions have no choice but to retreat!”

Lysithea snorts as Felix balks, scowls, and finally trudges off the battlefield.

***

Byleth sighs in relief as the rest of the Blue Lions retreat from battle. Half of the Deer have already withdrawn as well. Thankfully, only Edelgard and Linhardt remain.

“My teacher, if you stand in my way, I will not hesitate to cut you down!” Edelgard taunts from her fortress.

Wiping blood from the corner of her mouth, Byleth readies the Sword of the Creator and braces herself for Edelgard’s blow. She deflects the first attack and disengages her sword, lashing into Edelgard’s shin. A muted grunt is the only indication of pain, and she quickly recovers, swinging the rear of her axe at Byleth. Its edge is sharper than Byleth expected, enough to put a dent in her steel bracer and leave a shallow cut on her left arm.

“Hey, Princess! Heads up! There’s a rat right by your Imperial feet!” Claude, arm wrapped in a sling and face bandaged, yells from the sidelines.

“BAH! Where!?” she uncharacteristically shrieks, dropping all attention to the ground. “I don’t see a— Huh?"

Those few seconds of confusion are all Byleth needs to regain her poise and swiftly bring her sword to Edelgard’s neck.

“Heh, of course. What I fool I have made myself to be… I’m sorry, Lin, but I must retreat,” she declares somberly. “My teacher, you should have no trouble winning now,” she finishes with a chuckle.

Byleth turns her attention from Edelgard to Linhardt, who drops his tome and walks off the field with hands raised.

“That concludes this year’s Battle of the Eagle and Lion! And the winners are… The Golden Deer!” Seteth’s voice booms.

Cheers erupt from the sidelines from all three houses – Hilda pulls Lysithea into a tight hug, Lorenz and Ferdinand von Aegir shake hands diplomatically, Sylvain claps a frowning Felix on the back, and Caspar excitedly recounts his battle tales to a yawning Linhardt. 

“Well, I’d say that’s a victory worthy of a feast!” Claude announces to the entire student body, cheers filling the air once more.

Edelgard sighs, but a small smile graces her face. “Then it seems I have no choice but to drown my sorrows in overindulgence.”

“You heard her Imperial majesty – it’s not a feast if you don’t eat too much!” He turns to Byleth, leaning in close to her ear and speaking much more quietly when he says, “Besides, seeing you smile like that means I’ve got no choice but to have a great time tonight. Let’s get going, Teach.”

He smiles and holds out his hand, and for the first time since they’ve met, Byleth thinks he looks genuinely happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *screams into the ether*
> 
> This chapter took me FOREVER to write! I got a new job and needed to take online courses and shit, so I've been dead to the world, but I think I'm finally happy with how it turned out!
> 
> Sadness is on the horizon, but so is fluff ;)

**Author's Note:**

> If you got this far, thank you for reading! I'll probably skim over a lot of things (like I did with Sothis lol), because the focus will be on Claude and Byleth's relationship first and foremost, but it will closely follow the story as told from the GD route.


End file.
